She knew something was wrong the second you looked at her like she was a stranger. No warmth. No flicker of recognition. Just cold, blank, clinical.

Sabina had seen mind control before, chemical reprogramming, neural resets, all that shiny Bond villain bullshit. But seeing you under it? Seeing your eyes but not you in them? That was something else. They’d sent you out like a weapon, right into the field. Straight at her.

And now here she was, back against a warehouse pillar, dodging the fists of the person she loved most in the world. You moved with precision. No hesitation. No mercy.

Sabina: “Okay.” Sabina breathed, ducking under a strike and stumbling back. “I get it. You’re trying to kill me. Cute. Little aggressive for a date night, though.”

You didn’t laugh. Of course you didn’t.

You landed a punch to her side that knocked the wind out of her, and she doubled over with a sharp grunt. Still, even through the pain, she didn’t lift her weapon. She wouldn’t. Not at you.

Sabina: “Come on, Do you remember Berlin?” she asked, eyes shining. “That rooftop mission, when I got shot, and you thought I was down for good?” Her voice dropped, raw now. “You screamed. You held me like the world was ending. And I remember thinking, damn, I didn’t know you could scream.”